Fatal Flight Page 3

  “That’s not fair.” He was whining now, a sniveling sixteen-year-old, who wanted an easy ride through life.

  “It’s more than fair. I gave you a pass last time when you stalled out on purpose. You only get one. Now get off my field, and tell your father I’ll return the rest of his retainer.”

  “You can’t do this. I’ll get you.” An ugly expression reddened his face as he loomed over her.

  Sky held her ground, aware taking a step back would increase his sense of power. Hoping their gopher, Ted, would get there fast, she turned and strode toward the hangar.

  The kid grabbed her arm, yanking her in a half circle.

  “Do you know who I am?” Threat laced every word.

  “You’re an over-entitled, little putz who thinks because his daddy is rich he can do anything he wants. Well, not with my plane and not with me.” She grabbed his hand from her arm and pulled the fingers back hard, earning the satisfaction of his surprised yelp.

  “You bitch. You’ll pay for that.” His fist headed for her face.

  A hand intercepted it inches away. “And you’ll pay for that,” Adam Hamilton stated, dragging the kid’s arm behind his back and pressing him onto his knees. Holding him in place with ease, he whipped out his phone and asked for the sheriff’s office.

  Ted hurried out of the hangar. “Trouble, Sky?”

  “It appears it’s under control. Just sit on him. The sheriff is on his way, and I’m sure Daniel’s father will show up within the hour accompanied by a lawyer. He spends most his time keeping this little banana out of jail.” She turned away and stomped toward the hangar.

  “Sky, I’d like to speak with you.” Adam followed on her heels.

  “Oh, wonderful…another rich boy with entitlement issues, expecting anything he wants will just fall at his feet,” she muttered, continuing into the office. Just great. Pops was taking a break. He could be anywhere on the property. She wheeled on Adam.

  “For the record…” Adam got in her face and followed her movement as she shifted around him. “I did two tours in Afghanistan and Iran, I have a degree in aeronautical engineering, and I’ve worked damn hard for everything I have.” He straightened, towering over her in his indignation. “And, I’m no boy.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know you served,” she said sincerely, then ruined any chance of calming the waters by adding, “I never got passed the information on the position you hold in your family company. I assume nepotism is the fastest way into the COO’s seat.”

  “That and an MBA from Harvard.” He let her see the hard judgement in his eyes. “Next time, maybe you get the whole picture before you attack.”

  She blushed, knowing she was out of line, and confused about how she got there, stabbing away at a total stranger, when she should have directed her anger at the boy who’d almost hit her. Yet, something about Adam Hamilton kept her from backing down. “Sarcasm is the tool of the ignorant,” she threw at him.

  “Sarcasm is the only thing keeping me from strangling you.” He caught her verbal pitch and tossed it back.

  Just then the sheriff’s car pulled up in front of the hangar, and the older man got out and walked toward Ted and the belligerent kid he had cornered. Sky hastened outside, Adam following her. Man, she just couldn’t lose the guy. But she supposed the sheriff would want his statement.

  Within minutes, Sky had explained she’d refused Daniel more lessons because he wouldn’t follow her instruction in the air. While controlling the stick, he’d put the plane in a stall one day and tried for a spin today. The boy had neither the experience nor intelligence to fly those maneuvers, and only her fast response had kept them from crashing. “I won’t take responsibility for him. And frankly, can’t afford the insurance he’s costing me,” she concluded.

  “You’re charging him with reckless endangerment, then?” the sheriff clarified.

  “I won’t lay charges, for now. Just remove him from my property. If I see him here again, I will press charges.” She gave the kid a hard look.

  “He should be arrested for intent to cause harm and uttering threats against Ms. Stravinski,” Adam interjected. “I stopped him from punching her in the face, after he threatened, and I quote, ‘You’ll be sorry for that,’ when she defended herself.”

  “Daniel, is that true?” The sheriff turned on the cowering boy.

  Not such a bully now, Sky thought.

  “I want flying lessons. I paid, and she owes me.” Looking like a cornered buffalo, eyes wild, he persisted.

  “Nothing in the law says she has to give you lessons, and if you won’t obey your instructor, I’ll make sure you can’t legally take them again until you’re eighteen.” The sheriff escorted Daniel toward his cruiser. “Sky, I’ll deal with his father. If you have any more problems with Daniel, just let me know.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff Anderson, I appreciate it.” Sky watched as the vehicle drove through the double wide gate in the chain link fence. She turned back, facing off with Adam. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “You asked if your grandmother was destitute,” he spoke, as she began walking. “She isn’t. She comes from one of the oldest, wealthiest families in San Francisco. After the 1906 earthquake, her grandfather started a bank, offering loans to the families who’d lost homes and couldn’t rebuild. It’s now the biggest bank in the western United States. She, and a brother, inherited the estate when her father died.

  “Her husband, Michael O’Shaughnessy also came from money. His grandfather started a shipping company, bringing in supplies for the devastated people of San Francisco. Michael inherited it from his father and grew it further. It’s now one of the biggest shipping lines in the world. Your grandmother did not seek you hoping for a handout. On the contrary, she can give you a huge inheritance.” His face tightened, and he shifted his weight.

  Sky noted he once more relied on the cane and, for a millisecond, she considered taking this into the office, before her anger took over from her compassion. She stared at her boots, while she stowed her temper in an ice locker. Finally, she looked up. “Just so I’m clear, are you bribing me now?” She stared into the gray eyes, saw them narrow. He, too, took a moment.

  “That wasn’t my intention. I’m just pointing out your grandmother doesn’t want anything from you.”

  “But that’s not at all accurate.” Sky folded her arms and followed the contrail of a plane crossing the sky thousands of feet above them. “She does want something from me. She wants to meet me. In my experience, nothing stays that simple. She’ll want to draw me into her life, want to become a part of mine. That is a huge investment in time, energy, and trust you’re asking from me, on her behalf.”

  He leaned both hands on his cane, lifting some of the weight off his bad leg, and actually looked perplexed, as he thought through what she’d said.

  “So, your hostility isn’t specific? You don’t extend yourself for anyone?”

  “You can make me sound as selfish as you want. I, too, have worked hard for my life, and I won’t disrupt it on the whim of a woman I don’t know, who raised a son I wouldn’t want to know.”

  “And if you’re wrong?” Adam leaned forward.

  “Wrong about what? So far, you’ve told me he didn’t come home for his father’s funeral or support his mother, and I know he walked out on my mother as soon as he knew she was pregnant. What can you tell me that would change my impression of him? Was Erik O’Shaughnessy a friend of yours? Did you like him? Was he a good man?”

  “He was fourteen years older than me, so we weren’t friends. But he wasn’t a bad person, just an adrenaline junky, who’d do any extreme sport for a fix. Your grandparents did their best with him, but he was out of control from the day he was born.” He paused, but kept his eyes on her while he decided what else he might add.

  She appreciated he hadn’t given her a pile of smoldering hoo-hah.

  “Michael and Brigitta couldn’t have any more kids, but I’m sure if they had, the children would have
been just as good and kind and generous as them. Erik was an aberration. I wondered after his father’s funeral if he might have been a sociopath and just didn’t get right from wrong.”

  “Well, there is a blazing endorsement. I’m sorry she got stuck with a loser, but I still won’t meet her.” She looked at her watch, looked again, and marched toward the hangar. “Peanut butter and jam, I’m late for flight school. Goodbye, Mr. Hamilton. Have a good trip back to California.”

  “Houston.” He leaned heavily on his cane, as he matched her pace.

  Wrestling the kid had probably strained his injuries, she thought, taking in tightened features. “Pardon.”

  “I live in Houston, where Hamilton Aeronautics is based. As their Chief Operations Officer, I live close by.”

  “Oh,” she brushed past him, “then have a good trip to Houston.”

  He’d followed her until they reached the open door of the hangar. “As your new sponsor, I’ll stay around a few days and observe. I don’t put our corporation logo on something unless I’m satisfied everything is up to Hamilton standards.”

  “What the fried potatoes and beans are you talking about?”

  “What do fried potatoes and beans have to do with this?” Hamilton asked.

  “Pops doesn’t like me swearing, so I have to be creative, but I think you can get the drift.” She gave him what she hoped was an icy look. “And don’t think you can distract me. Explain.”

  “Maybe you should ask Max,” Adam suggested as he pulled out his phone.

  ****

  “Excuse me,” she said, temper tamped down under an icy will. “I have an appointment with Pops.” She fled the field, though each step was paced to look casual, unconcerned. “Pops,” she yelled as she raced into the hangar office. “Pops, what have you done?”

  He looked up from his phone, all innocence.

  “The snake warned you already.” She was incensed. “What is this? You have a new best pal, and I’m some idiot you keep in the dark? I thought I was a full partner. Up until now, we’ve made these decisions together. Why would you go behind my back like this?” She kicked the garbage can, upending it and sending a flurry of paper onto the floor, while the can rattled and rolled to the far side of the room.

  “Now, Sky, just let me explain.”

  “You can’t talk your way around me this time. What did you do, gamble away the airfield?” She fisted her hands on her hips, so she wouldn’t grab him by the ears and shake him.

  “No, I’d never gamble your heritage.” He looked affronted. “Yeah, we’re a little tight with the insurance payment on the Cessna due, but this was about lightening your load. Hamilton money will ease our way, and you can’t do better than have the reputation of such a prestigious air corporation behind you. Their logo on your plane is worth a mint.”

  “I already have their logo on my plane. They designed it for crispy cracker’s sake.” She fisted her hands.

  She swung around when she heard a shuffling sound by the door. Adam leaned against the doorframe, his hand trembling on the handle of his cane, his face ashen and covered in sweat.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, sit down. Why the mint jelly would you follow me in here when you’re in that condition?” She sent a chair his way, with a push of her foot.

  “As Max pointed out, it is my company logo going up on your plane, our money going into your pocket. I believe any discussion should include me.” He dropped into the chair. His teeth ground together as he stifled a sound indicating the amount of pain his rush across the tarmac had caused.

  Sky cooled her jets. She was nothing if not practical. She couldn’t handle this unless she knew the details, couldn’t kick him out until she knew the deal Pops had made. Pulling up another chair in front of the desk, she stared hard at Pops, then Adam. “Run it by me.”

  Pops settled his hands on his slight paunch and leaned back. “Since I lost my license, I’m good for nothing but running the front office of Stravinski Aviation, and you’re doing all the rest.”

  “What about Stan, he services all the aircraft, and Ted?”

  “Ted’s just a doing a few jobs in exchange for flying lessons. Neither of them can help you instruct, or fly solo in airshows, or handle our charters. If you have a sponsor covering your costs, we can hire more help and you can take on fewer students. You’d have more time for practice. You’re spreading yourself too thin, and every time you go up in the Storm, I worry about you. I never did before.” He jerked to his feet, his face taking on a tinge of scarlet. “Sky, do this for me, if not yourself. You’re all I have, and I don’t want to lose you in an accident caused by pilot error, because you’re too tired to focus.”

  “All right, I’ll practice more, and you can stop worrying. I’ve financed myself until now. I don’t need a sponsor, so cancel the deal.” She gave Adam a fake smile. She didn’t want Hamilton in her life in any way.

  “Sorry, I can’t. I signed a one-year contract with him,” Max said with more sorrow than remorse.

  “Well, I didn’t, and as I’m an equal partner, it’s not even legal. We can just withdraw.”

  “Sky…” Pops looked mournful. “You know, as manager, my signature is all that’s needed on the majority of business, but that’s not the point. I built Stravinski Aviation from that old Tiger Moth special my father left me. This place is my life’s work, and my reputation is rolled into that. I shook hands with Adam. Now you’re asking me to renege on a deal. Please don’t.”

  “Pops, you’ve put me in an untenable situation. Why would you move forward on this without discussing it with me?”

  “I told you, I’m worried about you. You’re working way too hard and have no life outside the company. I thought I could take some pressure off you. Weeks ago, we agreed a sponsor for your competitive flying was the answer.”

  Sky thrust her hands into the tightly bound hair at her temples and pulled, so she wouldn’t scream at him. The real culprit, Adam Hamilton had stuck his foot into her life, knowing how she’d react, and he’d made the deal. Peanut butter and jam him, she cursed under her breath. She was caught in a pincer between her wishes and Pops’ reputation. Popsicles, she knew she was cornered with only one choice. Love won every time. “Okay, Pops. I won’t ask you to back out. But you better handle every bit of business with this man. I don’t want the smallest piece of him.”

  She gave Pops a gimlet look. “Can I count on you for that?”

  Max’s gaze settled on an envelope on his desk. His expression darkened, irritation, curling his mouth. He crumpled the letter without opening it and pitched it into the garbage can, his attention not fully on Sky.

  “Pops,” she repeated exasperated.

  He looked up, “What, oh sure, I’ll do my best. Sorry I put you in this spot, Sky. I make one mistake after another these days. I guess I’m getting too old.” He hunched his shoulders.

  “Pops, that routine holds less air than a flat tire. Now if you’re worried about me being tired, go home. I’m already late for flight school.”

  “Right, I’ll get out of your hair.” He straightened and sprinted toward the door, paused, then turned back. “Adam, you’re coming with me, right?” He gave the seated man a significant look that had him on his feet.

  “Careful, a frail, old guy like you might trip on the way out,” Sky yelled after him, noting Pops’ instant change from penitent to victor. “Should I get a wheelchair?”

  He gave her an unrepentant grin as he stepped into his re-vamped vintage sports car. She heard him whistling over the growl of the engine, as he drove away.

  Fine for you, Pops. You pulled the cracker with Hamilton and got a bang, just what you wanted. I end up with the prize—a useless paper crown you’ll insist I wear. She shivered as her primitive brain warned her of a threat. I can’t dwell on the situation, now. My students are waiting.

  She’d set up the flight school in the northeast corner of the hangar. High windows, along two sides of the sectioned-off area, framed the dark
ening skies. Seven students lounged at the long tables. They had their textbooks in front of them and had done their homework, because they began firing questions at her the minute she took her position at the front. Using a model plane, she enlarged on the theories of lift, yaw, bank, and glide. They were an eager bunch; several could become excellent pilots. Another already had his private license and was going after his aerobatics license with dreams of flying in the airshows. She’d begun mentoring him six months ago. They were aiming for the same goal. If Steve qualified, he could take over performing for Sky. They’d hire him, provide the plane and mechanic, book his gigs, and cover the insurance. He’d take Sky’s place for most of the engagements, freeing her up from so much travel—a sweet deal for both of them.

  She’d never get tired of soaring through the blue sky, manipulating a machine as if it was an extension of her thoughts, but the travel and long hours of waiting required to perform had long since lost their appeal. She craved more involvement in the competitive circuit. Taking on some of the famous European competitions would pit her against the best pilots in the world.

  A long shriek of metal on concrete brought her class into focus. One of the students had pushed back his chair and now stood by the coffee dispenser. She continued the lesson.

  Soon, she’d be alone in the hangar, ensconced in her loft, and though exhaustion pulled at her, she knew she wouldn’t sleep. She needed quiet and space to assimilate Pops’ news. She needed a game plan for dealing with Adam Hamilton. Open hostility served like an extra helping to a gourmand. The man loved a challenge. How would he react to polite indifference? Next time she saw him, she’d test the hypothesis, she decided, as she dragged herself into the loft after locking up.

  ****

  The shrill sound of the security alarm jerked her upright in bed. Thrusting her legs into a pair of jeans, she grabbed her phone and raced for the hangar.

  The phone rang. “Ms. Stravinski,” a male voice said. “We show your alarms have been triggered. Is this an accident?”

  “I don’t believe so. I’m checking now.”